The Bitter Truth About Illusion Is
by BeMyxoxo
Summary: How could a night that seemed to start out so well, turn out so horribly wrong? After all, it was only the Purple Dragons. Maybe Lady Luck wasn't on our side after all. Raphael lost his brother once, he's not willing to let go of him again. Not T-Cest, set in 2012 universe.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Wow, I haven't written a fanfic in a long time. Well, this particular story takes place in 2012, but if you really wanted you could imagine it in 2003. Although, it might not make as much sense.**

 **And just to make this clear, this is NOT T-cest.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing**

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Milky moonlight streams down into the busy streets of New York City. The ever-present, full moon hangs above the horizon. Against her silver illumination, four dark silhouettes sit perched atop an apartment rooftop.

Leonardo glances back at his brothers. His eyes are now void of emotion, pale, and deathly serious at the sight that takes place in the alley below. Although, Donatello would be lying if he said he didn't notice the flicker of worry that passes through his leader's eyes. For underneath the strict leader persona, the concerned older brother inside always seems to seep through in moments like these.

"Let's make this quick, guys. We get in, get out, go home. Got it?" he only hopes that his team will choose to listen to him this night. Fortunately, its seems as though Lady Luck is on his side tonight. Leo's youngest brother scrambles up to the edge, bright eyes glinting with anticipation.

A rougher voice pipes up, though still hushed as it's owner keeps in mind the situation at hand. "And we'll get to beat up some Purple Dragon punks along the way." the crude words are laced with satisfaction. Leonardo turns to the dark red mask in his peripherals. He sighs, but his amusement leaks through in his voice.

"Yes, Raph. We get to beat up some Purple Dragon punks, as you so elegantly put it." the brother mentioned glares at him playfully, before his face sobers. He cocks his head towards the scene unfolding in the alley. Leo nods, his 'leader' mask falling into place. He silently berates himself for letting himself and his team get off task, effectively wasting valuable time in the process. Michelangelo clambers up onto the roof's ledge, ready to swoop down onto the unsuspecting gang members.

"Can we get pizza later?" he nudges Leo softly, one hand going to his nunchaku. The leader's eyes slide over to his littlest brother. He can't help but smile softly.

"It's a possibility." Wasting no more time, he leaps into the dark alley, shadows twisting around his body and shielding him from view. One by one, his brothers follow suit. They expertly cling to the walls, using the darkness as camouflage. Flicking his hand up in a quick warning signal, Leo creeps closer, struggling to make out the hushed whispers. He recognises Hun's deep growl, and another voice, this one's more metallic, artificial almost. Something rustles behind him, the lid of a trash can wobbles and falls to the floor with a loud _clang_. Leo freezes. He's not sure which of his brothers caused the noise, but it doesn't matter at this point. All eyes in the alley turn his way. Some in startled alarm, and some in hopeful expectancy. They've been spotted now. Jumping out of his cover, Leo swiftly unsheathes his katana. Hoping to use their surprise against them, he launches himself at Hun and the unknown person. His katana sails towards the Purple Dragon member, but he quickly dives out of the way. Instead, the blade sinks into Hun's companion. Pink sparks fly out, the person sizzles and crackles, the upper part of his body collapses. From inside his body, a pink brain-like creature squeals and leaps out.

"Purple Dragons and the Kraang?" Donnie cries out in surprise. His grip tightens on his bo staff as Hun gets to his feet. The man rises to his full height, glaring down at the turtles in flaming anger.

"You idiots!" he growls. Spinning around, he searches for his comrades, who are nowhere to be found. "Purple Dragons! Get out here, now!" At the command, the gang members begin to stream into the alley. There's a lot of them, more than there should be in any one place. Mikey cries out in shock as one nails him in the head. As he falls, he flips out his kusarigama and tosses the weight towards an especially dense cluster of the Purple Dragons. The action causes the chain to wrap around two of the men, effectively pulling them down with him, and the blade grazing the shin of another.

In another dark crevice of the alley, Raphael had been cornered by a large horde. But to their confusion, he simply smirked darkly. They saw nothing but a flash of silver and the blur of red leather, but in a heartbeat, the turtle had them running in the other direction. Chuckling, said turtle chases after them, sais swinging with deadly accuracy. As he rushes by, Donnie frowns slightly at his antics, but he's too preoccupied at the moment to rebuke his elder brother. The genius turtle backs away slightly as one particularly large gang member stalks forward predatorily. He holds out his bo, threateningly, but the man only laughs.

"You're going to fight me, with a stick?" He almost sounds offended. Expertly twisting the wooden staff in his grip, Donnie points one edge away from him; the edge he knows is dangerous. The man frowns, puzzled when nothing happens. He moves forward again, only to find a crooked blade, centimetres from his nose, a second later. Donnie smiles lopsidedly, a somewhat sadistic smile adorned upon his face.

"It's a six-foot staff." he corrects. The naginata swings dangerously close to the man's face. He backs away warily, eyes fixed on the glinting metal. He's so distracted by the blade that he doesn't notice the green foot that sweeps under him and knocks him off his feet. Donatello has no time to bask in his victory, however, as three more come to take the man's place. Nervously, he backs up further. On the other side, Raphael is doing the same. One of his sais had managed to get lodged in the brick wall across from him. And in a turn of events, a small cluster of Purple Dragons had managed to get the drop on him; gaining the upper hand. The familiar scrape of a shell bumps against his backside, then another one. Two of his brothers. Not taking his eyes off of the enemy, he listens close to the sounds of the battle. Behind him, he hears the sound of weapons twirling. Donnie and Mikey.

Satisfied that his two younger brothers are safe, Raph charges forwards. In place of his missing weapon, he's grabbed a shuriken from his belt instead. It feels awkward, but with one sai and one throwing star, he slices at the Purple Dragons. By some miracle, he actually manages to push them back. He makes sure not to stray too far, though. Keeping one eye on the blurred purple and orange behind him, he stays within a safe distance.

Mikey's breath catches as he barely manages to avoid a dagger headed for his neck with pinpoint accuracy. He forces out a laugh, swallowing his growing alarm.

"Is that all you've got?" he chuckles. To his left, Donnie grunts from the force of a blow to his side.

"Don't encourage them, Mikey." he chastises. He can hear the sound of Raph's heaving breaths, whether from exhaustion or anger he can't be sure.

"Come on, guys. It's just a bunch of lame Purple Dragon punks, we... we should be able to take these losers!" His red-clad brother grabs the arm of a scrawny Purple Dragon and sends him flying into one of his comrades. Unfortunately, once the two were down, three more seemed to come out of nowhere to replace them. Just as Donnie was about to suggest they retreat, all the Dragons seemed to back off. They glanced at one another nervously, before mutually deciding to turn tail and run. The young genius looks around in confusion.

"Did we beat them?" he was pretty sure that it had been a losing battle on their side. So what had made them leave so suddenly, Donnie had no clue.

"Um, dudes?" Mikey's concerned voice broke out. "Where's Leo?" Raph's blood froze at the question. Where was Leo? He had been so preoccupied with the battle and keeping Donnie and Mikey safe, that he hadn't thought to look for his older brother.

A deep rumble had them turning around. "Here he is." Hun's large boot was placed on top of a gasping Leonardo. Leo... his eye was bruised and sunken, a series of deep cuts and scrapes littered his arms and legs. And most alarmingly, a jagged crack ran down the length of his plastron. With a sinking heart, Donnie realised that what they experienced was nothing; Leo had taken the brunt of the attacks. Mikey gasped at the abundance of wounds and the state that Leonardo appeared to be in. But Raph was more worried about the way Hun was pointing Leo's own katana at the turtle beneath him.

"Guys, get out of here now!" he struggled with the words, but the plead was clear in his eyes. He was begging them to get out, to leave him behind. Donnie narrowed his eyes. No way were they going to leave him here, not injured, and not in the company of Hun.

"Let him go, Hun." Mikey's voice shook as he spoke, but he didn't back down, nonetheless. Leonardo would have felt proud of him if it weren't for the dire situation they were currently in. He opened his mouth to speak again, to warn them to leave the alley and not come back, but before he got the chance, Hun's boot slid up his plastron and stopped above his throat. He dug his heel into the crack in Leo's plastron and the pressure he placed on his throat threatened to snap his fragile neck. Against his will, he let out a soft whimper. Donnie felt his heart break at the sound, and the anger tripled in his belly.

"You better not do something you'll regret." he was shocked at the way the words came out of his own mouth. He never knew that his voice could sound so deadly and menacing. But desperate times calls for desperate measures, or something like that. Hearing the words, Leo shook his head violently. He cast his gaze towards Donnie. _Please,_ he thought _._ _Please just get out of here._ Raphael, on the other hand, was seeing red as bright as his mask.

"Oh, I'll make him regret it." he snarls, tearing his lost sai out of the wall and moving forward with threatening intentions. He only stops when Hun's foot presses further down onto Leo's throat, and he lifts the blade higher into the air, threatening to bring the katana down and having full intentions to do so. Leo lets out a strangled gasp for air. He begins to claw at the weight on his chest and neck, begging and struggling desperately for air. But the more he struggles, the heavier Hun's foot becomes upon his body.

The leader of the Purple Dragons laughs maniacally. "Oh, this is just perfect." he rumbles. He forces Leonardo's head to turn and face him. Spitting into the turtle's eyes, Hun smirks as he turns to the others, basking in their horrified stares. "Well, it's been fun, turtles." He turns back to Leonardo, forcing the turtle to stare straight into his eyes, ignoring the bombarde of protests.

Holding the terrified gaze, Hun leans his weight forward and brings down the blade.

"Leonardo!"


	2. Chapter 2

Hun's weight shifts forward and the katana plunges downward. The sickening crunch of bones snapping is the loudest thing in the alley.

And red. Red of blood. Red of his mask. Red of his vision.

Someone screams. Maybe it's Donnie or Mikey. Maybe it's a random passerby that happened to be walking past that particular alley. Or maybe it's Leo. That would make the most sense. After all, he's just had his own katana sunken through the hard coating of his shell and into his abdomen. Raph doesn't know. He doesn't really care. It could have been any of them. Did it really matter at this point? Leo- Leonardo, the leader, the protector, the older brother-

Sick laughter. Horrid, satanic, sadistic laughter fills the space. The noise rattles hollowly inside of Raphael. He feels his bones, his flesh, his heart, his very being, chilled to the core at the sound. The metallic sting of fresh blood hits him like a tidal wave. The scent cuts through him like a knife through butter. He swears that he feels the scream of agony as a blade, piercing his plastron and penetrating through his body. The blade lifts. The object beneath it rises with the motion. Then the body crumples and collapses to the ground. Raph hears a single exhale. The brick walls spin around him, they twist and somersault, taunting him with the way his brother's scarlet blood now taints the air and mars the walls. Bile rises in his throat, and he doesn't bother trying to keep it down. The putrid taste of vomit up and leaves his mouth. It stings his throat and he feels like gagging. That didn't just happen. That did not just happen. That couldn't have happened.

Oh, mother of-

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Raphael hits the floor in a cold sweat, the strangled scream cut off in his throat, and his limbs tangled in his bedsheets. Heaving and panting in white horror, he struggles to sit up. Groaning, he wipes the haze from his face. Raph shudders, partly from the cold, and partly from the feeling of sick horror that's rising in his stomach and chest. Still shaking slightly, he pulls one hand across his face. It comes back damp from the layer of sticky sweat that covers his forehead. One disadvantage (or perhaps a perk?) of the mutation? Raphael and his brothers now sweated like humans. With finely-tuned hearing, he detects the patter of footsteps, indicating a presence headed his way.

A green, three-fingered hand awkwardly loops under his and pulls him to his feet. "Are you okay?" his voice sounds scraped raw. Raph almost wants to laugh at the irony of the question. "You should be resting." he rebukes firmly. He stares firmly into the maskless gaze. None of the turtles liked to wear their masks to sleep; it often shifted around awkwardly and the knot at the back proved to be quite annoying when they were lying down. Plus, when they were little Master Splinter had deemed it a choking hazard and thus too dangerous to wear at night. Raph assumed that the current situation proved to be no different.

Raph chortles bitterly. "I'm the one who should be resting? What are you doing out of bed?" With clear displeasure written on his face, Raph carefully steers the other turtle out of his room.

"Raph, seriously are you alright? I heard you muttering in your sleep." The turtle in question waves off the other's concern.

"It was nothing. Don't worry about it. You shouldn't even have been awake." Raph enters the bedroom and a haunting chill runs down his spine. As he helps his brother to his bed, he notices with discontentment that the futon is cold. He must have been out of bed for a while. With one hand behind his shell, the turtle is guided into his bed, clearly exhausted. But true to his nature, he refuses to give up without a fight.

"I can't help but worry, you're my brother. Of course I'm going to-"

Raph is quick to cut him off. "I know. Believe me, I know. Just, not tonight. Please? Not... tonight." The pain is evident in the way his voice thickens and he blinks away invasive tears. With some reluctance, the turtle's eyes soften in understanding.

"Okay. I get it." A pregnant pause follows, a heavy thickness in the air. Finally, Raph leans over to bid his brother goodnight.

"I'm glad you're okay, Leo."

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 **It's short. I didn't really know where to go from here. It's kinda filler-y, kinda pointless. But I guess that's up to interpretation. Honestly, I'm not really happy with this chapter, but oh well. Maybe I'll redo it later. I'll try and update soon.**


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